


Even Death is Not the End

by bornonthewrongside



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Heartbreaking, Hospitals, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:35:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornonthewrongside/pseuds/bornonthewrongside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark-Clegane becomes terminally ill after seven months of marriage to Sandor Clegane. Together they discuss parts of their lives together that they loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're My World

**Author's Note:**

> i think this is going to be a sad fic, so please let me know what you think, i love feedback! 
> 
> &&sorry for any grammatical errors and such, i'm really tired, but i couldn't sleep until I got this out.
> 
> thank you so much for reading.

The walls were white. The floors were white. The beds were white. Every god damned thing in the hospital was white. Except for her cascade of fiery curls that was now shorter than what it once was. Her eyes were more sunken in now, the Tully blue still radiant, and her skin was paler now, almost matching the walls. Her lips were closed, as were her eyes. She slept more than before, and now he never slept.

Sandor Clegane sat in a white chair next to his wife’s bed, clutching her hand. He was too big for this chair, and his back ached terribly. His hair was tousled, and his clothes wrinkled. He started to smell a bit, but he never cared. Not when his wife dying in the hospital. He didn’t remember what the doctors said she had, nor did he care. All he heard is that his wife will die.His beautiful, exquisite wife. They've only been married for seven months. Raking his other hand over his face, another tear escaped his eye. He wiped it promptly, she didn't need his tears. Not now.

The nurses gave up telling him to go home after the first two weeks. He despised the looks of pity they gave, but he couldn't blame them. He was pitiful. He can’t save his wife. His life. She was his everything. He realized the nurses knew that, only when he almost punched a doctor for being a complete and utter ass.

Sansa roused awake, whimpering a little bit in pain. Sandor’s hand brushed away her hair from her face, “Hello Little Bird.” 

“You were crying,” she said sadly. She brought her slim hand up to his face, and traced his scars softly. “Oh, my love, it’s all right.”

Sandor leaned his face against her cheek, “Little Bird, we have things to talk about…” 

She snatched her hand back, “No. Not now anyway.” Her voice softened, and she held his hand, “Tell me a story. It’s been so long since I’ve heard a good story.”

Sandor sighed, “Little bird…”

Sansa laughed softly, “I know one, it’s one of my favorites actually. You might know it, my love. It’s a story of a ferocious hound meeting a singing little bird.”  
*** 

Sansa’s eye shined brightly that day; her bright red hair was neatly braided over her shoulder. She was wearing a pale blue dress that reached the ground, and left her back bare. People all around her were bustling, occasionally running into her, but she paid them no mind. The day was lovely, it was so bright and beautiful. Sunshine created a golden glow to all the flowers and all the trees around them. 

Lady, her lovely pup, was by her side. Being proper as ever, sitting patiently, waiting for her beloved owner. Sansa absent mindedly went to scratch Lady’s ear, and Lady leaned into Sansa’s leg. 

Sansa was knocked back by a passing cyclist, causing her to run into someone. Hands grasped her shoulders, steadying her before she had a chance to fall. A rough voice sounded,“Careful, girl.” 

Sansa jumped as she turned around, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Lady walked up to the man, started nuzzling his hand. 

Sansa looked up to the man, and sucked in her breath. His eyes were grey, so terribly serious. She focused only on his eyes before looked onto the rest of his face. He might have been attractive, if it wasn’t for the scar that covered half his face. No, thought Sansa, not just the scar, the scowl is what makes him unappealing. 

“Like what you see, girl?” He asked, obviously annoyed, but he was still petting Lady.

Sansa cast her eyes towards the ground, she did not know how long she was looking at his face, “Apologies, ser. I did not mean to offend you.”

“Shove your courtesies, girl.” Sansa gasped at his tone, and he barked a laugh. Lady jumped onto him, a did a light bark.

“Lady!” Sansa snapped, and the dog immediately retreated back to her owner’s side. “I am so sorry…” 

“Sandor.” He said as he licked his lips. 

“Sandor,” she repeated. “She’s normally not like this, I apologize… again.” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but Lady cut in between them, and raced around Sansa, tangling the leash around her legs, causing her to fall. Right into Sandor. 

Her hands grasped at his biceps. She felt his muscles ripple as he moved. Well, that feels nice, she thought as her slid up to his shoulder. Their hands connected as Sandor took the leash from her, and unraveled her. She was still in his chest, when she realized how tall he was. At least a whole head taller than her.

She pushed away from him, and shyly pushed a stray hair out of her face, but when she did, her hand collided with someone else’s. She looked at Sandor’s hand hovering just over hers. An incomprehensible noise came from Sandor before he turned around. But he still had Lady’s leash in his hands.

***

Laughter was coming from Sandor, “How many times do I have to tell you; I did not mean to take your dog?” 

Sansa was laughing as well, it was quieter than what it used to be, but it was still music to Sandor’s ears, “What did you think of me when we first met?” 

He leaned close, and kissed her forehead, “My mind went blank, and all I could see was a beautiful woman who dimmed the world in comparison.” 

Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. When they broke apart Sansa whispered in his ear, “You’re my world.”

Sandor felt tears, and he had to turn away for a second, “You are mine as well, little bird. You are my light. May the Seven give you-” 

“Stop, let’s not bring that up, besides you hate the gods.” She smiled as she spoke.

“I have every reason to, little bird.” he muttered, as he noticed she was drifting back to sleep. 

He kissed her forehead before stepping into the hallway. His hands covered his face as he thought about that day.

It was fuzzy in his brain, but he remembered what he wanted, how angelic she looked as the breeze played with the loose strands of her hair. He also remembered how she didn’t seem disgusted with his face. She looked into his eyes, and he looked back. Gods, he fell in love with her on the spot.


	2. Not Even Death

    Sandor slammed the front door of his house as he stepped in. He threw his keys on the dining table, and kicked off his shoes. He did not want to be here. He was supposed to be at the hospital. With his wife. But Sansa made him leave to get some rest in a real bed, to take a shower and eat an actual meal. He wasn't going to waste his time sleeping; he need to be in the hospital.

     He didn’t need to be sent away, he just wanted to be next to his wife. No, he wanted his wife home, happy and healthy. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together. They were going to have children, they were going to travel… they were… _we were going to be happy_.

     Sandor reached the bathroom before the tears came. He ripped off his shirt before he hit the floor, the sobs racking his body. Cradling his face in his hands, he tried to breathe, but only sobs came.  The harder he tried, the worse the pain in his chest became. He didn’t try to contain them, there was no need. He was only being strong for her. His beautiful little bird.

     When Sandor stood again, he rested his palms on the counter and looked at the mirror. Gods know what she saw him; how she fell in love with him. His face was hideous, his temper even worse, but somehow she saw past that. _Now she’s being ripped from me_.

     Before he knew it, his fist flew into the mirror. Blood and shards of glass fell into the sink, on the counter and all around the floor. He felt no satisfaction.

     Ignoring the mess, he went to shower. His eyes stayed dry, he wouldn’t cry in front of her again. She did not need his tears. She needed her loving hound.

     After he finished dressing, he sat in the living room, waiting to go back to the hospital. Sansa told him not to be there within the hour, and it had been only thirty minutes. He tried to avoid looking at the photographs that lined the walls. She really enjoyed photographs. Every time they went somewhere she needed to take at least twenty photos.

     He stood, giving into his need to see her face again. Their wedding photo was the largest, and by the gods, she was radiant that day. Her smile was the widest he’d ever seen it. Her eyes were so clear, and oh so blue. He knew her family still doubted them, but she always argued for him. Always.

     He looked at more of their photos, many of them her smiling, many of them him straight-faced. They were photos of them back-packing through Europe, hiking along rivers in the north, sitting in staunchy restaurants, playing with Lady before she passed. Sandor smiled for the briefest second; they were happy together. Nothing could ever change that. Not even death.

          *******

     Before going back to the hospital, Sandor bought a bouquet of flowers for his darling wife. When she saw them, her face was as lively as what it used to be.

     “Oh, these are lovely!” Sansa looked at the nurse who was checking something, as she played with bright petals, “Don’t I have the best husband in the world?”

     The nurse looked at Sandor, and smiled, “He seems alright.”

      Sandor kissed Sansa’s forehead, “Hello love.”

     “What happened to your hand?” Sansa asked as she took his hand in hers, lightly brushing her lips against his haphazard bandages.

     “Don’t worry yourself, Little Bird.” he sat in the white chair next to the bed.

     The nurse came up next to Sansa, and then looked to Sandor, “Maybe you two would like to go for a walk today, the weather is nice right now, and the sunshine would do you both good.”

 

     “Is that a good idea? Having her walk?” Sandor asked with a worried look on his face.

     “No, she shouldn’t walk, she needs her energy. You can push her in a wheelchair, though.” The nurse said sadly.

     Sansa smiled, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Sunshine would be so nice.”

     Within twenty minutes, Sansa was being pushed by Sandor looking around at the depressing view of the hospital grounds. The trees were starting to lose their leaves, and the grass was turning brown. Sansa was bundled under some blankets, and she smiled up at him, “I like this time of year. Just before the snow comes.”

     “A little bird like you needs the warmth.” Sandor said lovingly.

     “Let’s stop under that tree,” Sansa pointed to a tall oak that still had most of it’s leaves.

     “All right,” he mumbled.

 

     When Sandor stopped her wheelchair, he sat on the cold ground next to her. He held Sansa’s hand, grazing thumb over her skin. He glanced over at her, and noticed she was staring at him. “What are you looking at Little Bird?”

      "I just really like your face. Is that a problem?” She asked him sarcastically.

     “Some people tend to think so,” he grumbled.

      Sansa just rolled her eyes, and not so skillfully changed the subject.“Do you remember that time we tried painting our bedroom, and I accidently kicked the pail of paint on you while you setting up the tarp? Paint was everywhere, is the stain still in the carpet?”

     Sandor laughed lightly, “We put the bed over the stain because you didn’t want the hassle of redoing the carpet. And I remember my legs were green for a month. Thank you by the way.”

     “You’re welcome. Though I think made up for it later that night. Multiple times.” She smirked, and ruffled his hair. “You know, I think that’s when I fell in with you.”

     “Is it? That was about a year before we were married.” He said offhandedly. “What did it? What made you realize I was the dog for you?”

     She smiled a sad smile, then looked at him, “You smeared paint right onto my face. Didn’t even think twice about it. You picked me up, kissed me. And smeared paint over my cheek,” he voice cracked. “I don’t know what it was about that, but I think it was look on your face. Your eyes are always so serious, so terribly serious, but right then, there was nothing but happiness. You’re my happiness, Sandor, and nothing with ever change that.”

     Sandor stood, and gathered her in his arms, “Not even death, little bird, not even death.” He sat on the ground with her on his lap, she began to trace patterns on his skin.

     “Sandor… when did you fall in love with me?”

**  
**  “Honestly? I don’t think I ever did fall in love with you. I believe I was born loving you, and I never had a chance to fall. That day when we met, that was most important day of my life.” He brushed her hair back, “I’ve always loved you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got this one pretty quick, so it may not be the best quality but i hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> as always please feel free to tell me what you think! 
> 
> thank you for reading lovelies.


	3. Move Now

     Sandor heard her voice before he saw her. Arya Stark, his wife’s little wolf bitch sister. He did adore Arya, but never once would he tell her. Her tauntings would become evermore endless. He didn’t think he would be able to handle it. A flash of black and purple went past the door frame.

     “I thought you said room 107,” a girl’s voice came from down the hallway after a clashing of yelps and curses.. “Watch the leather, jeez.” Arya Stark appeared in the doorway with a nurse on her hip.

     “She says she was looking for her sister; she came into the wrong room, shooting a water gun at another patient.” The nurse pushed Arya into the room, and practically slammed the door shut. Sandor glanced over at Sansa, who was in a deep sleep.

     Sandor shot a look at Arya, crossing his arms in a disproving gesture. Arya held both her hands up, “I got the room wrong, so shoot me.”

      Sandor tried not laugh, “Apparently you did that already. A water gun really?”

      Arya sank into the chair next to Sansa’s bed, “Well I figured you two are seriously depressed, and I am always so damn cheerful.” She shrugged her shoulders, “How is she?” 

      “Some days she’s better, some days she’s worse. She says that the pain isn’t there anymore, but I know she’s lying. She’s always been a terrible liar.”

     Arya smiled at that, and nodded, “Yeah, I know a little about that. She always made me lie to mom and dad. Not that I minded, but… anyway.” She rounded her shoulders and stood, “What do you two do everyday? I assume you’re here everyday?”

     “Of course I am. We talk, she’s been very nostalgic lately, always bringing up memories and such. I don’t think I can take it anymore. We need talk about now. What’s happening now… Sorry, you don’t need to hear this.” Sandor raked his hands against his face. _Gods he needed sleep._

      Sansa mumbled something in her sleep, and Arya played with the ends of Sansa’s hair. “I should have come sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t. She must hate me.”

      “No. She could never hate you. She would never want to. We both knew you would come sooner or later. Your parents have come a couple of times, but they don’t like me much so they never stay long.”

       "I’m glad to hear it; that she doesn’t hate me. It’s utter shit that my parents are being pricks. They always thought Sansa would marry a doctor, or a lawyer. Maybe even a politician. Not.. you. They don’t know how much Sansa really loves you. The first weeks you guys started dating was complete torture for me. It was always,” Arya cleared her throat, and did a horrible impression of Sansa’s voice, _“Sandor is so charming, he is so polite. He is such a gentleman. When he kisses me I can barely stand, he makes me so weak in the legs.”_

       Sandor chuckled, “You’re horrible liar, too, wolf bitch.”

       Arya punched him in the arm, “You can’t tell a lie to save your soul, Hound. No, maybe it wasn’t that exaggerated, but she fell for you pretty damn quick. Don’t know what did it, she always dreamed about being courted, and you didn’t do much of that, did you?”

     He glanced over at Sansa again, his beautiful wife, and smiled, “I did more than I thought I would. She changed me, and I dare say, I changed her a bit as well. Not that your parents approved of that.”

      “I don’t give a shit what parents think of you. You fucking stayed here for her, day and night in the hospital. You look like you haven’t slept in months, you’ve lost weight, and for the gods’ sakes, you’ve been crying. You love her. That’s all she needed, all she needs.” Arya breathed in deep. “Thank you. For doing all you do. None of us thought this would happen to her. She was going to grow old with a whole army of children tied to her hip. Sorry, that’s insensitive of me.”

     “No, you’re right. We all thought that, but it’s not true. My wife will die, childless. I will be a widow, with no children. I would give my life if it meant I could just have one more year with her. She can’t die this young. There’s so much she wants to do,” he let in a shaky breath, “Sansa’s so calm in all of this, does she even know? I wonder to myself sometimes if I am just a terrible nightmare, and I keep hoping I’ll wake up. But I won’t. I know I won’t. She needs me, doesn’t she?” Sandor looked to Arya with tears in his eyes.

     “Of course she does, Hound. She also needs me,” a tear fell from her eye. “But, there’s only so much we can do. So don’t blame yourself.”

      Sansa roused a little, and flickered her eyes open, she smiled at Sandor, and her eyes widened at the sight of Arya, “Arya! What are you doing here? I thought you were coming next week?”

     “I thought I’d surprise you, but then I accidently shot somebody.” She waved her hand at Sansa’s horrified expression, “Not important. What’s up loser?”

      Sansa gave her a wary look, then smiled at Sandor, “Could you give us a minute, sweetling?”

      Though he wasn’t happy about Sandor, walked over to kiss her on the forehead, ignored Arya’s gagging noises, and went into the hallway. He paced to end of the hallway and back multiple times before he sat for about five seconds before standing again. He grabbed some coffee, that tasted like water with dirt poured into it. When he couldn’t take it anymore he went back into the room to find Arya and Sansa giggling like little school girls.

      “How did Gendry meet mom and dad?” Sansa asked shocked.

       Arya gave her a sly look, “He may have been climbing out of my bedroom window, and accidently set off the security system. Maybe.”

       The laughter was sudden, and it didn’t fade for at least five minutes. Tears were streaming down Sansa’s face, as well as Arya’s.

       “Well at least Sandor met mom and dad under better circumstances,” Sansa noticed Sandor standing there, and patted the side of the bed; walked over and sat next to her on the bed. “Do you remember that? It was on our first date.”

****  
  


***********************

       “Hair up or hair down?” Sansa played with her hair as she asked Arya her opinion.

      “Don’t care,” Arya practically sang from the bed in her bedroom, that Sansa had commandeered for the purpose of her date that night.

      “Arya! The only reason I’m here is to get help from you. Please, Marge is out of town, I have no else to turn to.” Sansa pouted, her lips were perfectly glossed.

      “Ask mom.” Arya said, not bothering to look up from the magazine she was flipping through.

      “She won’t approve him. Not yet anyway. Please, Arya!” Sansa ripped the magazine from her sister’s hands and tossed it onto her sister’s desk.

      Arya sat straight up, “Whoa. Wait a second. Did you say mom won’t approve? She won’t approve of the guy that her perfect daughter is going on a date with.”

      Sansa rolled her eyes, “For goodness’ sake, yes, okay? She would absolutely hate him. He’s older, and his history isn’t exactly the best. But I really like him Arya, I do.”

     “Good for you, big sis. Go with your hair up, it shows off your neck.” Arya stood up, and went to her closet and grabbed her only dress. “Wear this, mom got it for me, but I’ll never wear it. It matches your hair.”

       Sansa looked at the scooped neckline of blueish green dress. It was  three quartered sleeve and looked as if it fall just above mid-knee. “Oh Arya, this is perfect.”

        Arya almost fell over when Sansa trampled her into a hug. She patted her sister back awkwardly, “It’s just a dress.”

       Sansa’s phone went off, and Arya almost hurdled the bed to get to it first, ignoring Sansa’s cries to give it back, “Ooh, it’s from _Sandor Clegane_. What a pompous name. I wonder he said.” Arya jerked the phone out of the when Sansa made a grab towards it. “ _Where do you want me to pick you up?_ Well he gets to the point.”

 

       “Do not text him back Arya. Don’t do it.” Sansa said as she started to put on the dress.

       “Too late.” Arya couldn’t contain her laughter at her sister’s face. “I just told him to pick you up here so I can see him. The parentals aren’t even going to be here, calm down. You’re over eighteen, you can do what you want.”

        As soon as Sansa finished getting ready, she realized she was almost an hour early. Since Arya had already to cut Sansa’s hair about six times, Sansa decided to leave her alone for a little while. She tried to sit down and watch some television, but that lasted about five minutes. _Good gods, I’ve never been this nervous over a date before_.

       When she heard a car pull into the driveway she raced to the window, almost tipping over a lamp in the process. “Shit! Arya get down here.”

       Her parents were coming towards the door, and there was another car pulling in too, Sandor’s. “Arya! Now!”

       “What the hell is your problem?” Arya sauntered down the steps, and walked to the window, just seeing her parents walking into the house. “That’s not too good.”

      Sansa let out a noise of distress, “You think?”

     Sandor started to get out his car, and the thunk of a closing car door drew the attentions of her parents. They turned around and started towards the car. “Oh no!” Sansa sprinted outside, almost losing her footing multiple times.

     Arya swore under her breath, and followed.

     “... here for Sansa,” the sisters overheard Sandor saying to their parents.

     “Mom, dad! Hi! How are you guys? I see you’ve met Sandor. Sandor this Ned, my dad, and Catelyn, my mom.” Sansa’s voice went up three octaves.

      Ned looked at Sandor, “Mr. Stark is fine.”

      Arya snorted, “Yeah, you guys make this super awkward. So anyway, Sansa has a date with Sandor, you know a romantic kind. We know you disapprove, but whatever that’s besides the point.”

      Sansa hid her face in her hands, Sandor leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she couldn’t help but smile. Sandor cleared his throat, “Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark, it was very lovely to meet you. You have a wonderful daughter, and I adore her. If I would have known I was going to meet you today, I would have planned some time to chat a bit, so you know, we can get to know each other a little bit more. But, sadly, I made reservations at the Rose Garden, and if we’re late, we’re going to lose our table.”   

      “Yeah, we gotta be running.” Sansa kissed her parents’ cheeks, and practically pushed them into the house. After they left she turned to Sandor, “Rose Garden? You are not dressed for the Rose Garden.”

      Sandor scoffed, “Hell no. I hate that place. I had to say something before your sister made it even worse.”

     “Hey! I went down to the nitty gritty. They left didn’t they?” Arya sat on the hood of his car.

     “You can go away now.” Sansa murmured through gritted teeth.

      “Nah. I want to know about this guy,” she pointed his direction. “Why are you with my sister?”

      Sansa started pushing Sandor into the car, “Just start driving. It doesn’t matter if she’s on the car. Let’s go.”

      “Do you think I’m going to try to play your sister?” Sandor asked Arya, staying where he was.

     “Might have crossed my mind.” Arya grabbed her phone from her back pocket, and jumped off the car. “Stay here, I want to give you something.”

      “Move now,” Sansa started pushing him again. “She’s going to for the water gun. Move now.”

 ***************************

     “I told you to move,” Sansa said in between laughing fits.

     “I didn’t think the wolf bitch would actually try to soak me.”

     “Try!?” Arya shot a hand to her heart, “I soaked you. And it was hilarious.” 

   

     Sansa held Sandor’s hand, “It was a very memorable first date.”

     “Even if your parents despised me.” Sandor smiled at Sansa, and squeezed her hand for a second.

     Arya looked at Sansa, “I think I have to get going; Gendry has an art show or something, and he needs me there. I’ll be here next week.” She smiled and kissed her sister on the cheek. She punched Sandor in the arm on the way out.

     “I’ve missed her.” Sansa looked at Sandor with tears in her eyes. He walked over, and she buried her head in his chest.

  
    “She’ll be back next week.” He murmured, and kissed the top of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this chapter is a dud. so i'm sorry. 
> 
> i'm really excited for the last chapters, i'll promise those will be better. 
> 
> thank you for reading lovelies!


	4. Pretty Rad Together

“Do you have any queens?” Sansa asked Sandor, holding a set of cards close to her chest.

“I have one sitting across from me right now. But in my cards, no.” Sandor smiled at her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a giant flirt?” She smirked over her cards, and drew a card from the pile.

Sandor looked genuinely shocked, “Not that I can say. But then again I only flirt with people I’m absolutely in love with.”

Sansa smiled, and then started coughing. It was a deep congested cough, her face slowly turned deep red, then almost purple. Sandor kicked the chair over as he ran to get the nurses. “Help! Help her. Please!”

The next moments of his life went by brutally slow. He wasn’t allowed in the room, but he heard coughing, and wheezes. The nurses were talking to each other, telling each other what to do, but none of it made sense to him. The beeping of her machine continued beeping, but not once the steady beat it was. Nurses came in and out of the room, all ignoring him when he jerked to attention. He didn’t even try to hide his tears. _No, not now. Not yet. I need more time._

Sansa’s doctor went in, and came back out in  five minutes, “Mr. Clegane?”

Breathing in deep, Sandor nodded.

“She’s fine, just a bad coughing fit. But there is something,” she looked at the chart. “How much time did her other doctor tell you?”

Sandor raked his face, “I don’t… I think…” his breath hitched, “Eight months at best, but he said it would probably be six. Why?”

The doctor gestured to the chairs in the waiting room, “Perhaps we should sit. You see, she’s getting worse faster than we thought, not much faster, but faster. Right now, from the looks of things, the best we can hope for is four months. I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Clegane.”

She left without another word. Sandor sat in the waiting room, not moving for twenty minutes.

****  
  


_She’ll never see another spring, nor another summer. She’ll die in the cold, desolate winter._

********

The next day Sandor was planning on telling Sansa, but he couldn’t bear it when he saw her face. Though she slept all through the night and most of the day, there were bags under eyes, and her skin was dull. She smiled when she saw him; she always did.

“Did they mess up our game?” Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.

He smiled sweetly at his wife, “I’m afraid so little bird.”

“Bastards.” she said with a glum look on her face, then it lit up, “You’d never guess who I got a call from the other day.”

“I haven’t a clue.” He said uncertainly.

“Marge called me. She’s going to come by and visit in a couple of weeks. Isn’t that lovely news?” She beamed at her husband.

“I know you’ve been missing her. I’m glad she’s coming by.” He sat down in that white chair, and noticed something under Sansa’s bed. “What’s this?” he asked as he went to grab it.

It was their wedding album. Sandor was clutching onto it so tightly his fingers were turning white, “How did you get this? I never brought this here.”

Sansa smiled gently, “No, no you didn’t. I had Arya grab it for me. It’s just something for me to do, when you’re not here. Let’s look through it, please.” She gave him that doe-eyed look that he could never deny.

“Sansa… Little Bird…”

“Please, my love.”

****  
  


**************

“Oh no. I can’t do this. I’m tying my life down too soon. I’m getting _married_. Why did I agree to this?” Sansa’s first meltdown of the was underway. Only Arya seemed to be unaffected by it, because she was only the one who talked sense into her.

“Sansa. You love Sandor. You’re getting married because you love him. You want to have his babies. You want to wake up next to him for the next fifty years, and all that shit.” Arya had Sansa by the shoulders, looking her in the eye.

Sansa nodded, “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t have to children yet do I? I mean I want them, but I’m not ready.”

Arya’s eyes went to the back of her head, “You can do whatever the hell you want. Now can I let the makeup people in or do you want hair first?”

“Hair. You can get your makeup done first. Is the photographer here yet? Where’s mom? And dad? I hope Rickon is behaving himself. When is Robb getting here? Is Jon coming? Do I need to check anything else? I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“Sansa, calm the fuck down.” Arya laid out on the floor, texting someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not like this one of the most important days of my life. This is terrifying. Maybe if I could just talk to Sandor.”

Arya shot straight up, “No. You gave me strict orders to not let you see him.”

Sansa huffed out a breath, “I said not let me _see_ him, not that I couldn't talk to him. Besides, I wasn’t even allowed to see him yesterday either.” She breathed in deeply, and crossed her arms, “This sucks.”

“Hello dears!” Catelyn walked into the room with her arms filled with a basket of fruit and Sansa’s wedding dress. “Sansa, the managers or whatever here said that the weather is going to be gorgeous today, so they offered to have the reception area moved outside. I know you planned on inside, but all the weather channels says it is just going absolutely gorgeous.”

“I think I need to discuss this with Sandor.” Sansa looked at the both of them, “Be right back.”

“Sit your ass in that chair, Sansa Stark. You need to get ready. Mom, maybe we should get started?” Arya stood in front of the door, and practically pushed Sansa into the chair.

Sansa’s hair was curled and swept into a complicated array of curls and pins. Her fiery hair looked as if it was from the 1920’s, and she wasn’t the only one gushing over it. Her mother’s tears were silent, and hidden by her smile. Sansa’s makeup was limited, so that didn’t take much time.

Within the next two hours, all three of the Stark women had their hair and makeup ready. “Well, I guess next step is the dress.”

Sansa wiped her sweaty palms on her pajama bottoms, “Not yet. What if I get something on it. We should wait like five, no, three minutes before it happens.”

“Sansa, you are not going to get anything on this dress,” Catelyn rubbed Sansa’s arm. “You are so beautiful. I am so proud of you. Now put on the dress, because I don’t think I can wait another minute.”

Slowly Sansa stepped into her wedding dress. She barely touched it; her mother took care of most of it. When it was buttoned up her back, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. “Whoa.” was all she said.

The neckline went high on to her neck, and there were three-quartered sleeves that had intricate lace designs. The torso was tighter, but the bottom just reached the floor, and flowed effortlessly along with her movements.

“Damn, girl. You’re hot.” Arya said as she forced herself into her grey bridesmaid’s dress.

Catelyn sniffled, “Oh my dear. I could never have imagined anything more perfect.”

A soft knock sounded at the door, “May the father of the Bride come in?”

Sansa went to the door to her father, whose jaw dropped, “Don’t make your old man cry.”

He came in, shutting the door behind him. “There’s an hour and a half, the photographer finished with the groom’s portraits. He wants to know if you want to start.”

Arya was already walking out the door, “I’ll go get him.”

The next hour was hideously tedious. With every passing minute Sansa became more and more jittery, and all the forced smiling was _not_ helping. Twenty minutes before everything was supposed to start, Sansa asked to be alone.

“See you in fifteen, loser.” Arya called out before she shut the door.

Sansa fell onto the bed. She was doing this. She was getting married. In less than hour. Gods, less than a half hour. Her head bobbed up when she heard knocking.

“Little Bird… it’s me.” Sansa didn’t say a word, but got up slowly, “Sandor.”

“You can’t be here.” She whispered through the door.

 

“I know I’m not supposed to see you, not yet anyway. I just need to know, how are you feeling about this?”

 

Sansa leaned against the doorframe, “I’m a nervous wreck, but I’m ready. Why?” Panic shot into her voice, “You’re not having any second thoughts are you?”

“No! Of course not, but Arya said something…” she felt his weight go against the door.

 

“She’s always causing trouble. Don’t worry, I’m going through with it. But now I really need to kiss you.”

“I’ve needed to kiss you for the past 48 hours. No one would let me see you, Little Bird. You’ve consumed my thoughts.”

“I should hope so,” Sansa smiled. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

 

“Just do what I say, big man. Rules say we can’t see each other, so keep your eyes closed.”

Carefully, Sansa opened the door with her eyes closed, she felt for his shoulders, and caressed his cheek blindly. Her thumb stroked over his lips, then on her tip toes, she leaned into him. She meant for it to be a quick, almost chaste kiss, but he had other thoughts. Their tongues danced with each other, and a low groan came from his throat.

When they broke apart, Sansa quickly closed the door again, leaned against and mouthed, wow.

“See you soon,” he whispered.

The look on Sandor’s face when he first saw walking down the aisle could have had Sansa singing. She clutched tightly onto her father, who squeezed her in return. When her father gave her a kiss on the cheek, she felt the wetness of a tear on his cheek. “I love you, daddy.”

Though this was one of the most important days of her life, Sansa just wanted to be Sandor’s wife. She wanted to kiss him, as man and wife.

Sansa was already almost of her shoes when it came to the “I do’s”.

“You may kiss the bride.”

That was the most perfect moment. Sandor gently wrapped his hands around her waist, and effortlessly spun her around in a circle for their first kiss.

Everything that night was perfect. They danced under the stars, not a cloud was in sight. Sandor was her husband. Nothing could be wrong.

“I have a toast! Listen to me! I have a speech!” Arya was speaking loudly into a microphone. “Since I am the _only_ bridesmaid, I have to give a speech. Sansa, my darling, beautiful sister, I adore you. As for your husband, I wish him luck with you when you do not get enough sleep. Trust me, she is not a pretty sight. You guys are great together, I feel obligated to say that. But I want to say this, I have never seen couple so in love, except for my parents. Sandor, when you two first started dating, Sansa was in the clouds. She could not stop smiling, she read to me all your texts, and told me every detail of every date. Now, after being together for almost three and a half years, she has become only happier. You two, oh man, I might make myself cry, are pretty rad together. Now! Let’s drink, dance, and party!”

“I guess we’re rad,” Sandor smiled at Sansa.

“Only _pretty_ rad,” Arya appeared behind them. “Come on, shower me with praise for not embarrassing you.”

***************

“Best night of my life,” Sansa whispered.

“Sansa… I need to tell you something,” Sandor breathed in, “The doctor told me some news, and I’m afraid it’s not good.”

“Then I guess it can wait until tomorrow, we’re not done looking through the photos yet.” She smiled, and went back to looking.

“I love you, Little Bird.”

“Love you, too. Look at this one with Arya on Jon’s back. Do you think she stole of the liquor?”

 

“I gave her most of mine, if that’s what you mean.”

“You gave my underaged sister alcohol. What is wrong with you?” Sansa was wide-eyed, her voice still sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“I wanted to remember every bit I could. Can’t blame me for that, can you?”

She bit her lip, “I guess not, but now you need to kiss me so I forget about it.”

“As my lady commands,” Sandor smiled as his lips pressed against hers. She deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue past his lips. It was gentle.

“You haven’t kissed me like that in a while.” She whispered sadly.

  
“I just needed to be reminded of just how rad we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i scare you lovelies?   
> as always tell me what you think  
> thank you for reading!
> 
> */*/*/*/*/*
> 
> two more chapters left! 
> 
> i was going to have this be seven chapters, but i cut one, and it worked out much better this way,


	5. I Can't Save You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is really weird, but the chapter I updated last I hated so, so i deleted and uploaded this one instead. ASeasonOfPoison is going to hate me but this chapter works out better to me, and i like the writing better. i'm sorry for the confusion. :/

Dr. Westerling walked up to Sandor as he grabbed coffee from the waiting room, “Mr. Clegane, I have a couple questions for you. Do you have a minute you could spare?”

Sandor looked at her over the cup of horrible coffee, “I guess so, Sansa’s sleeping right now. What do you need?”

 

“It’s been a week since I told you the news, and Sansa hasn’t shown any indication of, well knowing that she lost four months. You haven’t told her?”

 

“I tried, Doctor, I did. She wouldn’t listen to me, I have tried.” Sandor took a big gulp, and grimaced.

“I have to tell her, Mr. Clegane. I have a legal obligation to; I just wanted you to be there to help her with it. This is very troubling news-”

He cut a look towards her, “You don’t think I understand that? Do you not understand that this means the time I had with my wife is cut in _half_?”

“I’m not the enemy here, Mr. Clegane.” Dr. Westerling’s voice went from sharp to soft, “Has Sansa told you anything upsetting lately?”

“What in the bloody hells is that supposed to mean? All she does is talking of the fucking past. What is she supposed to say?” Sandor threw his cup in the trash.

“I’m sorry; but you would know what I’m talking about if she told you. I can’t tell you. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I need to talk to your wife, do you want to be there for her?” She gestured towards Sansa’s door.

“I do, I always want to be there for her. But something tells me you need to talk to her about something.” Sandor walked into the room, kissed Sansa on the forehead, whispered that he would be right out the door.

 

In the room, Dr. Westerling just broke the news to Sansa.

“What do you mean I only have four months left?” Sansa asked the doctor with a look of absolute horror.

“Sansa, I am so terribly sorry. There’s nothing much more we can do, besides making you comfortable. I wanted him to tell you himself, but now it’s done.”

“He tried. I wouldn’t listen. How is he taking this?” Sansa looked at her doctor with wide eyes.

“How anyone would take I expect. He loves you. Sansa, may I  ask you something that may seem unprofessional?”

Sansa nodded, and laid her against the pillows. Her breath started to shake. _I can’t die. Not yet. I won’t even make it to the spring._

“You should tell him about the baby.” Dr. Westerling sat in the chair next to the bed.

Sansa pushed herself up a little higher, “I am not putting him through that. It does nothing but bring more pain.”

“He’s terrified right now, and he is so confused why you are not talking about what’s going on. He doesn’t understand why you’re not talking about it”

“What do you want me to say, ‘Hi honey, by the way, when I found out I was going to die, I was actually going to see if I was pregnant. Which I was, but lost it less than a month later.’? No, it would only bring him more pain. He would hate me for not telling him.” Tears lined Sansa’s cheeks. “Gods, I wanted that baby.”

“I think, personally, you should tell him. You can’t keep it all in, he notices. He just doesn’t want to pressure you; he doesn’t know how to react in this situation.”

Sansa’s voice rose three octaves, “Who the hell knows how to react in this situation? I’m dying! In case you haven’t noticed. He has nobody else. He has no family, no close friends. And you want me to have him mourn the death of an unborn child? That is cruel and heartless.”

Dr.Westerling breathed in deep, “I see I have overstepped my bounds. I apologize.”

“He would hate me.” Sansa whispered to herself.

 

“I may not know Mr. Clegane all that well, but I know that he would never ever hate you. I don’t think he could if he tried.”

“We just started talking about starting a family.” Sansa sniffled, and looked towards the doctor, “He wanted a little girl. A big man like him wanted a little baby girl.”

“I can go get him, he’s waiting in the hallway.”

Sansa leaned her head against the pillow, “Is it wrong to keep it from him?”

“That’s based on personal values, but I think it would be better for you two to have everything in the air; avoid any more chances of getting hurt.”

“I guess you’re right.”

****  
  


Dr. Westerling went out into the hallway, and Sandor whipped his head at the sound of the door. “How is she?”

“She … has a lot to think about. She’s strong, Mr. Clegane. I’ll give her that. She wants to talk to you.”  

Sandor came into the room, wringing his hands together. He looked at his gorgeous wife. _She’s about to break._

“Is this what you wanted to tell me? That I’m going to die faster than we planned.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Oh gods Sandor. I’m not going to make it our anniversary. I won’t see the flowers bloom. I’m going to die in the winter. Where everything dies.”

Sansa started sobbing; staying silent Sandor walked over to his wife, his little bird, and gathered her in his arms. His eyes stayed clear. _It had to come sooner or later._ Sansa’s sobs racked her through her entire body, “I don’t want to die.”

Sandor ran a hand through her hair, “No, my sweet dove, you don’t. I don’t want you to either, but this is the way it is. You are my love, and you will always be such. Even after death.”

“Sandor,” she whispered against his skin, “I need to tell you something. Something I’ve avoided talking about since I was admitted to the hospital.”

“No, little bird, we don’t have to discuss anything you don’t want to.”

“No. I’ve kept something from you. Five months ago, I came here, you remember obviously. But I actually came in for a… I was pregnant. I was so excited, and the night I was going to tell you, the night we went to the Rose Garden, and I…” Sansa breathed in deeply, and dared a look at Sandor, who was looking at her with tears in his eyes, “and I fell. I lost the baby, and then I… I was given a numbered amount of days.”

Sandor placed his hand on Sansa’s as she tried hold back tears, but it was no use, they just kept coming. He gulped down audibly, “Little Bird… I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m so sorry. We just started talking about having a family, and now we’ll never have that. I’m so sorry Sandor. I kept it from you; I didn’t want you to be more hurt than what you already were. You were so excited about having a child, and now I let you down.” Sansa gripped his hand as her face contorted in complete agony.

“No, don’t say that. You could _never_ let me down. You are the only thing I care about. You. My Little Bird is so much stronger than meets the eye. I’m the one that needs to be sorry. I vowed to protect you. I promised to keep you safe, and you’ve been in the prison of torture for five months by yourself. I was, am, powerless to save you. You deserve the world little bird, and instead all you got is this pathetic hound. I can’t save you.” His eyes stayed dry, but his voice was far from steady.

Sansa pulled her hands away and began to play with the quilt on the bed, keeping her eyes off of his.She was about to say something when a nurse walked in, smiled, checked the chart, and scurried off.

In a whisper, she said, “I was going to die anyway, all the doctors said so. I just hoped I could have given you a child so you wouldn’t be alone in this world. Maybe give you the little dove you talked about while we were on our honeymoon.”

“My sweet, sweet little bird, always thinking of everyone before herself. I love you so much, but I would be no good around a child without you. You bring out the best in me, and without you I am not a good man.”

She lifted her doe eyes to look at him, “You don’t hate me?”

“No god, no unborn child, not even your parents could make me hate you. I will only love you, all my life, and after death. Until the oceans turn to dust, and the ashes of the mountains float off into the great oblivion, my love for you is constant and unwavering.”

She went for his hands again, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a giant flirt?”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the night, but their hands didn’t leave each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you lovelies like this one better?   
> i sure hope so!
> 
> thank you for reading! : )


	6. Even Death Is Not The End

Snow was beginning to fall lightly as a dozen people stood solemnly around a wooden casket. Their faces were downcast and pale. All the black was a contrast to the bright white surroundings. The casket was a rich mahogany, with at least three dozen deep red roses placed on top, along with other mementos placed by her family and friends.

Sandor stood next to Arya, about three steps closer to the casket than everybody else. Both their faces were stone, not showing any emotion, Arya held Sandor’s hand in her own. Catelyn Stark was buried in Ned’s arms. Sniffs were heard repeatedly, even if it was just from the freezing temperatures.

The pastor rambled on and on, but Sandor wasn’t listening, his eyes were focused on the ground, remembering the last moments. She didn’t go in her sleep, and she didn’t go peacefully. Sansa was standing at the window when she collapsed. Terror went through him when Sandor walked into the room and saw Sansa on the ground, convulsing. He wasn’t able to be there for her, he wasn’t even allowed in the room. Nurses shouted at each other for over ten minutes until Dr. Westerling went out into the hallway.

Sandor slid to the floor before the doctor even finished her sentence. His hands covered his face as he wept. Nurses slowly made their way out of the room, all avoiding him as he tried not to scream. _How is this pain worse than everything else I’ve been through?_ When he went into her room, and looked at her beautiful face, he was surprised at how much she still looked like his little bird. Her face looked as if she were just sleeping, just her lips were a little more blue than they used to be. But now she won’t wake up.

At the pressure of Arya squeezing his hand Sandor looked up, and saw the pastor holding out a small shovel. Sandor looked at a small pile of dirt, and back to the shovel. Silently he took it, and tossed a small amount of dirt in his wife’s grave. He handed it to Arya who gave him a sad smile.

When the final prayer was finished the people dissipated quickly, only a few lingering to give condolences to Sandor, and all sounded to the same to him.  “We’re sorry for your loss; she will be deeply missed.”

Catelyn and Ned were the last ones to walk up to him, both their eyes were bloodshot. Catelyn said nothing, but she did hug him. She whispered in her husband’s ear and walked away.

Sandor cleared his throat, “Mr. Stark,”

“I think after this you can call me Ned,” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “We, Cat and I, just wanted to thank you for what you did for Sansa. Arya told us that you didn’t leave her side, and I want to apologize for how rude and how inconsiderate I was about you being with our daughter. She was the light of my world and I didn’t want to give her up, but you were the right man for her.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I should be going,”Sandor started walking, and Ned followed.

“Should you be alone right now? You’re welcome in our home, anytime. Catelyn will expect you there for the holidays. They’re just around the corner.”

“I need to be alone right now, Mr. Stark. Thank you for your kindness.” Sandor trudged through the freshly fallen snow to his car, leaving Ned standing 20 feets from his daughter’s grave.

**************************************************

Sandor couldn’t go into his bedroom for almost a week. He couldn’t even go past the living room. Her photos lined the walls, and her drawings were still littered on the coffee table. The hospital gave him a box everything that was in her room; their wedding album, her hair brush, her cell phone, and her other sketch pad.  Everything is this house reminded him of her. Hell, there was still a wine glass with her lipstick still on it. His eyes never stayed dry for more than five minutes.

Arya called him relentlessly, and he forwarded all her calls. He didn’t need to be pitied he needed his _fucking wife_. He wanted her next to him, he wanted her sing-song voice coming from the bathroom as she got ready for the day. He needed to hear her giggles as he traced patterns into her skin before they went to bed. Sansa was his everything and now she was six feet under in the freezing ground.

He drank the entire contents of their liquor cabinet within four days, and it didn’t do a damn thing to numb the pain. Shards of the mirror were still scattered on the bathroom floor, and he more than once walked in there in a drunken stupor. But that pain was nothing compared to the torrential storm inside him. Sandor punched the walls repeatedly when he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. He could no longer look at himself, he could barely stand to live in his skin. _I need her; I need her in my life.  What am I supposed to do without her? Why did she have to leave me? Little Bird, I need you, come back to me._

__

A week after the funeral, two days after the liquor ran out, Sandor walked throughout the house. He looked into the study that had her easel, her painting still sitting, waiting to be finished. He saw the room that was going to be the nursery, and remembered painting it with Sansa, they decided on a light blue and light green. Well, she decided, he just nodded. Sandor almost smiled, but he quickly left the room when he remembered what Sansa had been through. When he made to their bedroom, he hesitated before slowly turning the doorknob. His eyes filled instantly when he caught scent of his wife.

Sansa’s clothes were hanging over the closet door, scattered on the bed and laying on the floor. Her shoes, all her damn shoes, were lined against the walls. Her vanity was riddled with perfumes and brushes. Her smell over-filled him, and he knew this was the last he was going to really feel of her.

A purple envelope on the bed caught his attention, he staggered to the bed, and in her beautiful cursive he saw his name. With his hands shaking violently, he opened the envelope.

****  
  
  


_My Love,_

__

_I don’t know how to really start this, and I don’t know how to end this, but I need to do it. I need to tell you how much I love you, how deeply I am grateful for you to be in my life. Sandor, my dear, you are currently standing out in the hallway, waiting for me, like you always do. You wait for me, and sometimes I wish I could save you the pain of having to wait for me to die, but I’m afraid I’m terribly selfish and I need you in my life._

_I know you are breaking apart, though you are strong in front of me, I know how much it kills you to see me dying. I don’t want you to be broken, I don’t want you to have your heart broken, but theres nothing I can do. I just need you to know that I will never forget our memories. Many see you as heartless, inconsiderate, and cruel. But I know different. I know you have the biggest heart in the world, you would walk through fire to make me happy. You would kill to keep me safe. I love us together, even if our time was cut short. Too bloody short, my love. I need you to know that even death is not the end, I will see you again._

_I still remember our time at the beach, you picked me up and threw me in the water, and we made love in the ocean under the moon and the stars. Or the time we went rock climbing in the Rockies. I almost fell, and you caught me. You always catch me. I can rely you, and I always will, nothing will change it._

_I can hear you coming in, so I have to cut this short. Sandor, I love you. I love you more than the wolf loves the moon. I cannot imagine my life without you and your everlasting will to stay strong. I love you, big man. I can’t say it enough, even if we were given 50 years, I could never say it enough. I love you._

__

_Your Darling Little Bird._

__

Sandor collapsed on the floor, his hand covering his mouth. There was no stopping his tears, nor his cries of anguish.

**  
_I love you, little bird. I love you so damn much. Even death is not the end._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so lovelies, what did you think? 
> 
> please please tell me what you think! 
> 
> thank you all so much for reading, this was a journey for me and I think this is the only sad one I will write, for a while at least.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a whole outline for this fic, so i know there is going to be about 7-8 chapters, 
> 
> if you want any updates you can follow me on tumblr : bornonthewrongside 
> 
> thank you for reading lovelies.


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